


Claw My Way to Your Heart

by wearing_tearing



Series: Soft Stucky Week [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky Barnes-centric, Christmas, Getting Together, Kittens, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Soft Stucky Week 2016, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Veterinarian Steve Rogers, War Veteran Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 11:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8977168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearing_tearing/pseuds/wearing_tearing
Summary: “You didn’t name your pet?” Dr. Rogers raises an eyebrow at him, obviously amused.“She’s not my pet,” Bucky argues, and the look Dr. Rogers gives him makes it clear he knows Bucky is lying.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rena/gifts), [rainbow_marbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbow_marbles/gifts).



> special thanks to [Rena](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Rena), who let me steal the name of her cat, and to [rainbow_marbles](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbow_marbles), who sent me a lot of christmas kitten pics <3

**1.**

“Hi, there.”

The kitten glances up at Bucky, slowly making her way up the fire escape. She’s a tiny little thing, one eye missing, nothing but fur and bones. She’s been Bucky’s companion for the past few weeks, whenever Bucky finds himself sitting by his open window after a sleepless and restless night.

Bucky picks up the little bowl of milk he has by his side, placing it on the fire escape. He also adds the plate with scraps of food, remnants from his middle of the night snack after he gave up sleep altogether.

The kitten meows, already used to this routine. She doesn’t hiss and run away anymore at the mere sight of Bucky, nor does she try to scratch him. She even lets Bucky feed her, although this is only the third time she’s stayed long enough to touch whatever Bucky leaves out for her.

They’re pals now, or so Bucky likes to tell himself.

“C’mon, buddy,” Bucky murmurs, pulling his hoodie tighter around himself, the cold wind swiping his long hair back away from his face. “Don’t be scared. I think we know each other well enough by now to know nothing bad will happen.”

The kitten bumps one paw against the plate, like she always does, almost as if expecting it to jump and attack her, totally ignoring Bucky’s words. Not that he really expected her to understand him, but still. When nothing happens, she draws closer, sniffing around a little before grabbing a piece of bacon and scarfing it down.

Bucky smiles despite himself, charmed by her, and rests his chin on his propped up knee, content in watching her eat. He promised himself he wasn’t going to get attached, but he has to admit that ship sailed a long time ago.

This cute little kitten is a bright spot in Bucky’s otherwise boring life. Seeing her go from being scared and starving to being mostly annoyed at Bucky, makes him feel proud of both himself and her. This shows him he can still do some good in this world, despite how crappy he feels about his place in it most of the time.

Or at least Bucky hopes so.

 

**2.**

 

“You’ve been waiting for me, huh?” Bucky muses as he settles on his window sill, a thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

It’s getting colder and colder each night, and Bucky worries for the kitten, but he’s also afraid of picking her up and getting her inside. She’s only starting to come around to being near him, and Bucky doesn’t want to fuck that up.

The kitten is sitting a few steps away from him, tail flicking, her one yellow eye peering curiously up at Bucky. It looks like she’s been there for a while, and Bucky can’t help the way his lips curve into a smile at the sight. Especially when she purrs as he sets some food down, not even waiting before Bucky takes his hand back before she starts eating.

Bucky’s heart speeds up in his chest, stomach flipping in excitement. This is the closest he’s been to her since she started coming around, and it shows how far she’s come since they met. It gives Bucky a little spark of hope to see strength in someone else, even an animal, and makes him believe that maybe he can face his own fears, too.

After the kitten is done eating, she doesn’t cut and run like usual. She stays, licking her paws, totally ignoring Bucky’s presence. She doesn’t even flinch when Bucky slowly picks up the dirty dishes, placing them on his dresser so he can wash them later.

Bucky licks his lips, holding the blanket around him with one hand. He reaches out with the other one, inch by inch, holding his breath as he gets closer and closer to the kitten. Just as he’s about to touch her, she jerks up and swipes at him, making Bucky jump back.

“Sorry,” Bucky mumbles, even though she can’t understand him.

The kitten ignores him, going back to doing her thing. Bucky watches her for a few more minutes, disappointment churning in his gut. After a while the cold starts to get too much for him, and he shifts in place, getting ready to head up inside.

Bucky has one foot already back in his bedroom, bracing himself to hop back in, when he feels something bump against his thigh, making him freeze in place. He looks down to see the kitten staring up at him, right before bumping her head against Bucky’s leg again.

“Oh,” Bucky breathes out, sitting down again.

He untangles one of his hands from the blanket, tentatively touching his fingers to the top of the kitten’s head, right between her ears. The kitten nuzzles into Bucky’s hand, purring in encouragement.

Bucky grins, still hesitant as he scratches the kitten, moving from her ears down her chin. The kitten keeps purring, loud and pleased, unaware that every second she lets Bucky touch her, something melts inside his heart.

 

**3.**

Bucky takes a sip of his coffee, mindlessly watching TV as he lounges on the couch, burritoed in a few blankets. The apartment is chilly, the window that leads to the fire escape open a few inches, the cold wind seeping inside.

It’s worth it, though, when Bucky feels the couch dip by his side, something furry tickling his arm. Bucky smiles down at the kitten as she makes herself comfortable on the space between Bucky’s hip and the rest of the couch, little claws kneading the cushions.

The kitten has been coming in and out of the apartment the past week, exploring the place and sometimes sitting close to Bucky, before leaving through the open window again. After each time she visits, she stays a little longer, sometimes even letting Bucky pet her, his fingers rubbing at her fur.

Today is one of those days. She curls up next to Bucky, purring when Bucky rests a hand on her back. Bucky hides his grin behind his mug, feeling himself relax against the couch, the repetitive movements he’s making helping him let out some tension he didn’t know he was holding in.

They spend a few minutes like that, Bucky petting her and pretending he’s watching TV, the kitten a little ball of warmth against his side. It’s peaceful, this new routine they’ve made for themselves, and soon Bucky finds himself dozing off, eyes heavy with sleep.

Bucky wakes up what could be a few minutes or hours later. There’s a weight on his chest, and he opens his eyes to see the kitten perched on top of him, one of her paws raised. Bucky goes still, breath trapped in his lungs.

For a brief second Bucky panics, thinking she’ll take a swipe at him with her claws. Not that he needs to worry, though. When she lowers her paw, it is only to quickly boop him on the nose before scurrying back, jumping on the floor and meowing.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Bucky tells her, heart still speeding in his chest.

The kitten meows again, her tail flicking, before walking to the empty box Bucky has beside his shelf and jumping inside, right beside the bed and toys he bought for her.

 

**4.**

“I guess it’s time to make this official, huh?”

The kitten ignores him, bumping her head against Bucky’s chest, little claws kneading his sweater. Bucky is careful as he cradles her to him, little body covered under his winter coat, and makes his way to the nearest vet clinic.

Bucky knows he hasn’t been all that responsible with her since he started feeding her at the beginning of the winter. He’s been making do with tips from pet sites and cat-related forums on how best to deal with a stray kitten, but until now he hasn’t gotten her checked out by a professional.

It might be because until this moment Bucky hadn’t admitted to himself that he wanted to keep her, but after waking up for the fourth night in a roll to find her curled up on top of his head, Bucky couldn’t keep lying to himself. So now he’s on his way to became an official pet owner of a one-eyed grey kitten.

Bucky lets the kitten perch on his shoulder when they arrive at the clinic, picking one of the chairs with a clear view of the room and its exits for him to plop down on. The kitten meows and rubs her head against Bucky’s cheek, tiny claws digging into his winter coat.

“Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky looks up at the sound of his name, breath catching in his throat. Standing there is one of the most beautiful man Bucky’s ever seen: light blue eyes and plump pink lips, his blond hair falling softly against his forehead, a strong smooth jaw and sharp cheekbones. Bucky almost swallows his tongue when he lets his gaze stray away from the man’s face, taking in the white lab coat stretched across a well-defined chest and muscled arms.

“Mr. Barnes?” the man calls again, brows furrowed a little, as he looks around the waiting room.

Bucky clears his throat, securing the kitten over his shoulder with a hand on her back and standing up. “Here.”

The man blinks, frown disappearing and giving place to a smile. “Hi, I’m Dr. Rogers. Follow me.”

Bucky does, trying to calm his breathing as he comes to terms with how _attractive_ Dr. Rogers is. And of course his cat’s vet would turn out to be exactly Bucky’s type. He’s just glad the lab coat covers Dr. Rogers’s ass, because Bucky’s not sure he’d be able to handle it just now.

“So she’s a stray, huh?” Dr. Rogers asks him once Bucky manages to pray the kitten away from his shoulder, placing her on the table.

“Was,” Bucky answers, voice a little rough from disuse. “Guess as of today she’s officially mine, though.”

“That sounds great.” Dr. Rogers gives him a bright smile, the corners of his eyes wrinkling.

Bucky swallows, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He can do this. He can stay here while the kitten gets checked out by the hottest vet in the entire world, and not pass out from the sheer beauty of this man.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, and the kitten meows as if agreeing.

“Okay, let's get her checked out.”

Bucky watches in fascination as Dr. Rogers works, heart melting at seeing how gentle and caring he is while taking care of the kitten. The kitten doesn’t seem to happy about it, though, which Bucky can understand. He also doesn’t like doctors, although being here with Dr. Rogers doesn’t fill him with a sense of dread usually associated with experiences similar to this.

“Everything seems to be fine,” Dr. Rogers tells him, scratching the kitten between her ears. She shamelessly leans into the contact, and Bucky pretends not to be jealous. “We just need to vaccinate her and test her for a few things, but then you’re good to go.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Dr. Rogers nods, flashing Bucky another one of his gorgeous smiles. “You’ve been taking very good care of… uh, I see you didn’t provide a name for her in the file?”

Bucky blinks, taken aback. “She doesn’t really have one?”

“You didn’t name your pet?” Dr. Rogers raises an eyebrow at him, obviously amused.

“She’s not my pet,” Bucky argues, and the look Dr. Rogers gives him makes it clear he knows Bucky is lying. “It didn’t occur to me I had to name her.”

“I guess you don’t, if you don’t want to,” Dr. Rogers says, lips quirking up. “But it’s always nice having something to yell out when she ends up scratching your favorite couch.”

Bucky smiles a little, a shy thing. “Personal experience?”

“Maybe,” Dr. Rogers replies, sheepish. “Really, though, it’s up to you. She’s a cute little thing, and she seems to be fine. For someone who says she’s not yours, she’s very well taken care of.”

“Thanks,” Bucky sighs, relief rushing through him.

“Were you worried?” Dr. Rogers asks, expression softening.

“A little,” Bucky admits, brushing his hair away from his face. “I’m kind of new at this.”

“You’re doing great,” Dr. Rogers assures him. “Now let me just finish up, and then you two are good to go.”

True to his word, it doesn’t take long before Dr. Rogers clears them to leave. Bucky takes the kitten again, cradling her to his chest and then zipping up his coat, and laughs when she bumps her head against his chin, purring. When Bucky looks up, he notices Dr. Rogers staring at them, a strange look in his eyes.

“What?” Bucky asks, somewhat defensively.

“Nothing,” Dr. Rogers answers, shaking his head. Bucky can see the tip of his ears turning red, the blush quickly spreading to his cheeks and the back of his neck. “Uh, Eli will help you get everything else in order. Have a nice day!”

Dr. Rogers practically runs away, leaving Bucky and the kitten staring off after him.

“That was weird, right?” Bucky whispers.

The kitten doesn’t answer, just cuddles closer, and then digs her sharp claws into Bucky’s pecs.

 

**5.**

“Stop that.”

Feli, the kitten, ignores him, jumping up and attacking the blue sparkly ornaments Bucky is currently trying to put on his Christmas tree. The ornaments clink together and one falls to the floor, rolling away and in the direction of the couch. Feli shoots after it, bouncing and landing on top of the ornament, playing around with it.

Bucky sighs to himself and looks up, asking for strength. “This was a terrible idea.”

Buying a plastic Christmas tree and decorating it had been an attempt at normalcy. Bucky hadn’t really celebrated any holidays since he came back from overseas, hadn’t wanted to, but he now  felt like he was in a good place to give it a chance.

In hindsight, it’s obvious Bucky hasn’t really thought this one through, nor did he consider how having a kitten might complicate his plans. It’s been about half an hour of Bucky trying to put up the ornaments, and twenty-seven minutes of Feli trying to take them down so she could play.

“At least you’re having fun, huh?” Bucky sighs, watching as she rolls around with the sparkly ball.

Bucky takes advantage of her distraction to keep decorating, stopping every once in a while to take a sip of his hot cocoa. The TV is on, _A Nightmare Before Christmas_ playing in the background, and Bucky can’t resist singing some of the songs under his breath.

It’s the calmest he’s felt in a while, he realizes. He knows he’s slept better ever since Feli started coming into the house and making camp in his bed, but overall he feels more like himself. Having her around for company helps ground him, and it’s nice having someone he needs to take care of. Not that Feli can’t take good care of herself, but making sure she has enough food to eat and her litterbox is clean helps more than Bucky thought possible.

Bucky glances back in the direction of the couch, freezing in place when he sees no sign of Feli, the blue sparkly Christmas ornament lying alone on the floor. Bucky looks around, making sure not to move too much, eyes scanning his living room for signs of his cat.

“Feli?” Bucky calls out to her, only to be met with silence.

At least, until he hears the curtains rustling.

Bucky twirls around in place just in time to see Feli lounging herself from the curtains to the Christmas tree.

It’s like everything happens in slow-motion: Feli in the air as she jumps, paws outstretched; Bucky reaching out with his metal hand, trying to stop her and failing; Feli hitting the Christmas tree full-force, meowing loudly; the Christmas tree crashing to the floor, the plastic sparkly ornaments making awful clunking sounds.

Bucky stares in horror at his brand new Christmas tree, completely destroyed.

On top of the branches, and looking very pleased with herself, Feli meows, and rests her head on her paws.

 

**6.**

“Hey, what’s going on with you, huh?” Bucky asks Feli, gently rubbing his fingers through her fur.

Feli purrs, and then makes one of the most disgusting retching sounds Bucky’s ever heard in his life, promptly vomiting all over his floor.

“Shit.” Bucky jerks back. “Fuck, oh my god.”

Bucky can vaguely make out something that looks incredibly close to the fake pine needles of his Christmas tree on the floor. He knows Feli loves playing with the tree, although she’s been good about not making it tumble to the floor since that first time. She still loves attacking the ornaments every now and then, but he’s never seen her trying to eat the tree before.

At least not until now, when she’s throwing up bits and pieces of it in the middle of his living room floor.

Panic stabs Bucky in the chest when Feli makes one of those sounds again. “Shit, Feli, I’m so sorry. C’mon, we’ll go to the vet. He’ll fix you.”

Feli makes an unhappy sound when Bucky picks her up, and Bucky’s heart all but breaks in his chest. He has no idea how long it takes him to get to Dr. Rogers’s clinic, a chorus of _please don’t die please don’t die please don’t leave me_ running through his mind the entire time.

Eli startles when Bucky bursts through the front door, but the sheer panic he sees on Bucky’s face gets him moving. “What happened?”

Bucky explains as best as he can, while Feli continues to make those awful retching sounds, even going as far as throwing up all over the reception desk. Eli wastes no time in getting her inside to Dr. Rogers, leaving Bucky alone in the waiting room, boots splattered with kitten vomit and his insides numb with horror.

The next thing he knows he’s sitting on one of the living room chairs, boots clean and a warm mug in his hand. He blinks down at it, the scent of lemon and ginger tea filling his nose.

“Are you back?” Eli asks him, and Bucky nods. “I promise you Feli will be fine. It’s not the first time this has happened to a cat, and Steve is very good at his job.”

“Steve?” Bucky asks, taking a sip of his drink and feeling a little bit comforted at the warmth of it.

“Dr. Rogers,” Eli explains. “So you have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

Bucky huffs, because that doesn’t really help. He’ll worry anyway. And as soon as he gets home, he’s donating his tree to charity. No more Christmas trees for Bucky and Feli, not after this.

“I’m sorry about the vomit,” he says instead, noticing the clean state of the reception desk.

“Not the first time that’s happened, either,” Eli says flatly. “At least _you_ didn’t hurl on top of it.”

Bucky winces, and they both fall quiet, Bucky waiting for news on Feli and drinking his tea while Eli goes back to work. Bucky tries to stay calm and take Eli’s words to heart: Feli will be fine. In just a few short months, Bucky’s become attached and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if the worst ends up happening.

“Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky shoots up from his chair, his grip on the mug so tight his knuckles are turning white. Dr. Rogers stares at him, offering a small smile. He looks still as stupidly attractive as Bucky remembered, but this time Bucky is too worried to really appreciate it.

“How is she?”

“Come on,” Dr. Rogers says, gesturing for Bucky to follow him. “See for yourself.”

Feli meows when she sees him, tail flicking slowly. Bucky rushes to her, careful to lay his hands over her back, fingers gently scratching at her. Feli leans into it for a short while, and then starts squirming, wanting to get away.

“She’s okay,” Bucky whispers, knees almost giving out in relief.

“She is,” Dr. Rogers tells him. “It’s common for this kind of thing to happen. Artificial trees aren’t as dangerous as real ones, but they can still be irritating to cats. You rushed her here as soon as she started throwing up, so she’ll be okay.”

“Thank fuck,” Bucky says, and then winces at himself. “Sorry.”

Dr. Rogers laughs, waving a hand. “It’s more than fine. And I share the sentiment.”

Bucky turns to Feli, watching as she stretches and yawns and completely ignores them. He then turns to Steve, finally letting the tension and fear he’s been carrying to leave him. “Thank you,” he murmurs, curling his hands into fists so he won’t reach out and touch Steve. “For taking care of her.”

“I’m happy to do it,” Dr. Rogers says, so genuine it makes Bucky’s heart twist. “She’s a cute cat.”

“She’s a menace,” Bucky grumbles, without any heat to it. “No more Christmas trees for us after this, huh?”

“You can still have them,” Dr. Rogers tells him. “You just have to cat proof your tree.”

“Cat proof,” Bucky repeats, wondering what he’s life has become.

“Google it. There are some good tips online.”

Bucky sighs, but promises to himself he’ll look into it. He grabs Feli, letting her crawl under his hoodie and pop her head over his collar, her ears flicking against Bucky’s jaw. He cuddles her close, feeling her small warm body against his chest, and takes a few moments to let himself enjoy this.

“You scared the shit out of me, buddy,” Bucky murmurs. “Don’t ever do that again, okay? I love you. This old heart can’t take it.”

Bucky hears a choked off sound coming from Dr. Rogers, and when he looks up it’s to see him blushing, cheeks as red as his plump lips that Bucky kind of wants to kiss sometimes — okay, most of the time. He’s looking at Bucky and Feli with so much fondness Bucky himself flushes a little, stomach flipping.

“Uh,” Bucky says, which promptly snaps Dr. Rogers out of whatever his thoughts were.

“Right, sorry.” Dr. Rogers clears his throat, looking somewhat at a loss. “Well, uh, she’s fine, she’s good, you’re clear to head home. Cat proofing, don’t forget.”

“Okay?” Bucky says, amused despite himself. It’s cute, seeing Dr. Rogers so flustered, and it warms Bucky’s heart to think it might be because of him. “Thank you again, for everything. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Dr. Rogers softens, tentatively reaching out a hand to pet Feli. His knuckles graze Bucky’s jaw, and Bucky has to fight back a shiver.

“She’s lucky to have you,” Dr. Rogers murmurs, lips curled up at the corners.

“She’s lucky to have you, too,” Bucky replies, and is reward by a smile so bright it melts his heart.

 

**7.**

“This isn’t too much, is it?” Bucky asks Feli as he looks down at the tray of chocolate chip cookies cooling on top of his kitchen counter. He completely ignores the mess he’s made of his kitchen while he tried to bake, focusing instead on the product of his work. “I mean, he did save your life.”

Feli just focuses her one eye at him, not saying anything, and Bucky takes that as agreement. He carefully wraps the cookies, vowing to himself he’ll take clean up the mess he made after he comes back from the vet clinic.

Bucky’s pleasantly surprised at himself for managing to bake cookies without burning the apartment down. It had been relaxing, actually, the process and steps that went into baking. It was nice having a list of small tasks he had to complete, as well as creating something from scratch. And as Bucky sneaks one of the cookies and takes a bite, he’s glad to find that not only do they _look_ good, but they also _taste_ good.

“Maybe I can try peanut butter cookies next time?” Bucky mutters, already making a mental note to google recipes and go to the grocery store for supplies.

Feli ignores him, leaving the kitchen and making a dash to Bucky’s bedroom. Bucky knows this means he’ll find cat hair all over his duvet and a toy under his pillow, but he doesn’t really mind. He’s resigned himself to that fate as a cat owner, and he’s has to admit he’s cool with it.

Bucky bundles up and wraps his favorite red scarf around his neck, retying his hair in a ponytail at the back of his head. His cheeks are rough with stubble, but he’s too lazy to shave, and he figures it doesn’t really matter when his scarf pretty much covers the lower half of his face.

The walk to the vet clinic doesn’t take very long. Bucky holds the plate of cookies tightly to him, and every step he takes makes him second-guess himself. It sounded like such a good idea to bring Dr. Rogers cookies as a thank you for what he did for Feli, but now that Bucky nears the clinic, he realizes the man was just doing his job.

Bucky feels stupid as he stands in the middle of the street, the front door to the clinic just a few short steps in front of him. He could go back to his place and eat the cookies by himself, but he’s already here, and he does want to thank Dr. Rogers for what he did. If anything, Bucky can just give the cookies to Eli. He deserves it after having to clean up cat vomit from his desk.

So Bucky takes a deep breath, and heads for the clinic, heart beating rapidly in his chest. Eli isn’t at the front desk when Bucky comes in, and after a look around Bucky sees the waiting room is also empty. He checks the time on his phone, letting out a breath when he sees it’s near closing time.

“Dr. Rogers?” Bucky calls out, clutching the plate to his chest.

It’s a few seconds before he hears the heavy sounds of footsteps, and sure enough Dr. Rogers appears in the waiting room, hair a mess and sans his white lab coat.

“Mr. Barnes? Hi! Is everything okay?” Dr. Rogers asks him, smiling wide.

Bucky almost swallows his tongue. Both because of Dr. Rogers’s sunshine smile, and also because Bucky can see his _clothes_ , usually hidden under the lab coat — dark jeans and a black sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He looks so good and soft and all Bucky wants to do is cuddle up to him and eat cookies together.

“Fine,” Bucky says, voice higher than normal. He clears his throat, fingers fidgeting with the wrapping around the cookie plates before he pushes it into Dr. Rogers's chest. “These are for you.”

Dr. Rogers instinctively brings his hands up to hold the plate, his eyes wide as he looks from Bucky to the cookies and back again. “Why…”

“As a thank you,” Bucky interrupts him, shifting on his heels, “for what you did for Feli. It’s… I know it’s your job, but… She means a lot to me, so I wanted to do something for you.”

“And you made me cookies?” Dr. Rogers asks, smiling softly.

Bucky shrugs, tugging at the ends of his scarf now that his hands are empty. “Seemed like a good idea at the time. They’re chocolate chip.”

“My favorite.” Dr. Rogers grins, unwrapping the plate and grabbing a cookie. Bucky almost dies when Dr. Rogers takes a bite and lets out a soft moan, his eyes fluttering shut. “These are great, Mr. Barnes.”

“Bucky,” Bucky corrects him, and at Dr. Rogers’s frown he adds, “That’s my name. You can call me Bucky.”

“Then you can call me Steve,” Dr. Rogers — _Steve_ — says, holding a hand out for Bucky.

Bucky shakes it, distracted by the warmth and roughness of Steve’s palm against his. “Nice to meet you, Steve. And thanks again.”

“You too, Bucky,” Steve says, his touch lingering and fingers grazing Bucky’s wrist and palm when they pull back. “And no thanks necessary, really.”

Bucky tries to hide the shiver that runs through him, but without much success. He sees the way Steve’s eyes darken, and finds himself blushing a little under Steve’s gaze, ears growing uncomfortably hot. Bucky ducks his head and sticks his hands in pockets, teeth worrying at his bottom lip.

As much as he’d like to close the distance between them and pull Steve into a kiss, it doesn’t feel right doing it now. It’s kind of obvious to Bucky now that Steve is just as affected as Bucky is whenever they’re near, which actually serves to clarify all the ways Steve’s acted a little strange whenever Bucky was at the clinic.

Steve thinks Bucky is hot, and is just as awkward about his attraction as Bucky is.

The realization warms Bucky from the inside out, but he doesn’t think he can make the first move. Not here, not now.

“So, uh, I should get going,” Bucky tells him, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his year. “Can’t leave Feli alone for long or she’ll destroy the apartment.”

“Right,” Steve answers, although he looks a little disappointed. Bucky doesn’t blame him. “It was nice seeing you. And thanks for the cookies.”

“Thank you for saving Feli,” Bucky says, and, despite the little voice inside him head yelling _abort! abort! abort!_ he takes a step forward and places a light kiss to Steve’s cheek, nose filling with the scent of dog, rubbing alcohol, and underneath something that is _all Steve_. “See you, Steve.”

Bucky only glances at Steve for a moment before he turns around to leave, but the sight of Steve’s flushed cheeks, parted lips, and eyes wide in surprise stay with him long after he’s gone.

 

**8.**

Bucky is lying on his bed, wearing his comfy snowman pajamas, his laptop perched on his thighs as he watches _The Princess Bride_ and eats the Christmas sugar cookies he made a few hours before. Feli is somewhere above his head, keading his hair, her tail occasionally flicking him in the forehead.

It’s a good way to spend their Saturday, especially after Bucky had a not-so-good start to his morning. Bucky’s been getting used to having more good days than bad ones, but sometimes he still struggles.

Waking up not knowing where he is has been happening less and less since he officially adopted Feli; her little body curled up against his face serves as a touchstone, as way for Bucky to know he’s at home and not at the hellhole where he lost his arm. But this morning she wasn’t there, and it took Bucky a few minutes to recognize his bedroom, and then a few minutes more to calm his breathing down once he did.

Feli flicks her tail again, the end of it tickling Bucky’s nose. Bucky sniffs a little, reaching for another cookie, eyes glued to his laptop screen as Princess Buttercup comes face to face with a shrieking eel. Bucky is so into the movie he almost throws his cookie at the wall in surprise when his phone starts ringing, Feli hissing and dashing away at his abrupt movement.

“Shit,” Bucky mumbles, pausing the movie and feeling under the covers for his phone. He frowns when he sees the unknown number, hesitating for a split second before hitting answer. “Hello?”

“Bucky?”

Bucky grips his phone tighter at the sound of that voice, sitting up straight in bed. “Steve?”

“Uh, yes, hi. How are you? I hope I’m not interrupting?”

Bucky’s heart does a little flip in his chest and he shakes his head, even though Steve can’t see him. “You’re not. I was just watching a movie.”

“Oh, I can let you go back to—”

“Steve, it’s okay,” Bucky cuts him off, voice soft. “What do you need?”

“Well,” Steve clears his throat, and Bucky uses that pause to take a bite one his cookie, “I still have your cookie plate.”

Bucky blinks, swallowing. “Okay?”

“Uh, I thought you might want it back soon?” Steve asks, unsure, and then quickly adds, “I don’t know if it’s the only one you have or if it has some sentimental value, and if it is and it does I didn’t want to—”

“Steve, it’s just a plate,” Bucky answers, lips quirked up at the corners.

“Oh, right.” There are a few beats of silence before Steve talks again. “I probably shouldn’t have worried, huh? Or gotten your number from your file at the clinic, oh my god. That’s so unprofessional, I’m so sorry.”

“Steve, it’s—”

“I’ll totally understand if you don’t feel comfortable having me as Feli’s vet anymore,” Steve continues, speaking each word as if it pains him. “I can recommend you to someone else. There’s Dr. Banner, he’s really—”

“ _Steve_ ,” Bucky says firmly, letting out a relieved breath when Steve stops talking. “It’s okay. I’m not angry. And I don’t want anyone else taking care of Feli, either.”

“Oh,” Steve says, just a soft little surprised sound that shoots straight through Bucky’s heart.

Bucky closes his laptop and gets up, walking to his closet. “I can pick up the plate now, if you’re free.”

“Pick up the plate?”

Bucky smiles again, grabbing his favorite winter sweater and a pair of pants. “Isn’t that why you called? Because you wanted to give it back to me?”

“I did?” Steve fumbles, and then says, “I did. That’s why I called.”

Bucky isn’t fooled, and his heart grows three sizes at knowing Steve made up some dumb excuse to get in touch with Bucky. Getting his number from the file is a little shady, but this time Bucky’s willing to overlook it. He has a good feeling about Steve, and his gut has never lead him wrong.

“Do you want me to stop by the clinic?”

“Actually, there’s this little cafe across the street called _Expresso Yourself_ ,” Steve says, and Bucky’s smile only widens. “I thought maybe we could meet there.”

Bucky starts getting dressed, trying to shoo Feli away when she shows up again,  rubbing up against his legs. “I know where it is. I’ll meet you there in half an hour?”

“It’s a date,” Steve says, and then chokes a little. “I mean, it doesn’t— That’s not what I—”

“I wouldn’t mind if it was,” Bucky interrupts him, butterflies flipping in his stomach. He knew Steve was at least attracted to him, but this is something else. It brings another smile to Bucky’s face, this time softer and a little shy. “A date, I mean.”

Bucky would opposite of mind. He would _love it_. He hasn’t exactly been the best person at putting himself out there since he came back, but he’s willing to try with Steve. He _wants_ to try with Steve, and see if there could be something between them.

“Really?” Steve breathes out. “I thought maybe you… since the last time we saw each other. But I didn’t want to assume.”

“Ask me, then.”

“Bucky,” Steve starts, voice deep and sure, “would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Yes,” Bucky says, grinning so hard his cheeks hurts.

At least until Feli starts feeling neglected and sinks her claws into his shin.

 

**9.**

Bucky sucks on a candy cane as he pours hot cocoa into two mugs, grabbing the whip cream and generously making a soft fluffy white sugary pile on top of the drinks. He keeps an eye on them as he walks back to the living room, careful not to spill anything, his socked feet thudding gently on the floor.

It’s Christmas Eve, and the apartment is warm and glowing white with Christmas lights, the sounds of _You’re a Mean one, Mr. Grinch_ playing through the room. The quiet festivities bring Bucky a sense of calm, because while he isn’t ready to go to Indiana to spend the holidays with his family, he also isn’t ready to spend them alone.

Not that he needs to, this time around.

“You only really like me for my cat, don’t you?” Bucky asks, and he doesn’t fight the fond smile that tugs at his mouth, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches Steve pet Feli while she rests on his stomach.

“You got me,” Steve deadpans, giving Feli one last scratch before she jumps out of his lap and claims her place at the empty armchair, far away from Bucky. Bucky would be hurt, if only she didn’t cuddle up to him during the nights. “It has absolutely nothing to do with how great you are.”

Bucky flushes, still unused to compliments and thinking that much of himself, but tries to cover it up. “Of course not.”

Steve grins, taking his mug with one hand and grabbing the end of Bucky’s candy cane with the other, pulling it out of Bucky’s mouth. “C’mere.”

Unlike Bucky, Steve doesn’t have any family to spend Christmas with, and he jumped at the chance to stay at Bucky’s when Bucky invited him over. Things between them are still fresh, both of them just getting to know each other, but they know they want something serious out of this.

Bucky shamelessly cuddles into Steve’s side, grabbing his favorite quilt and draping it over them. He gets his candy cane back from Steve and uses it as a spoon to eat some of the whip cream, turning around to look at Steve when he makes a sound of disgust.

“Isn’t that too sweet?” Steve asks, as if he wasn’t drinking the same hot cocoa and didn’t have whip cream on his upper lip.

Bucky sucks at the candy cane, cheeks hollowing, and enjoys the way Steve’s eyes fall to his mouth. He bats his lashes, feeling a little playful. “I _am_ sweet.”

“I don’t know,” Steve murmurs, taking Bucky’s mug and placing it on the coffee table along with his own. “I guess I’m gonna have to see.”

Bucky huffs in amusement, and then smiles when Steve pulls him closer. Bucky nuzzles his nose against Steve’s, their lips brushing together once before they lean for a deep kiss, soft and sweet and tasting of peppermint. A shiver slides down Bucky’s spine at the feeling of Steve’s mouth against his own, something still new but oh-so-addictive.

Bucky doubts he’ll ever get tired of it.

“Yeah,” Steve whispers when he pulls back, eyes liquid. “You’re right, Buck.”

Before Bucky can answer, something heavy and warm falls into his lap, his hand automatically reaching for it. A second later, Feli bumps her head against his chin and leans into his touch, half of her body sprawled over Steve.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky mutters, “we like you, too.”

Feli purrs, eyes closing when Bucky and Steve start petting her. Bucky grins, heart so filled with love and fondness he could burst. Especially when Steve tugs at his hair, making Bucky turn to him.

What meets him in a kiss, light and right against his lips, just as Steve says, “Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

“Merry Christmas, Steve,” Bucky says, and pulls him in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> and with this, soft stucky week comes to an end. thanks to [@iamnotsebastianstan](http://iamnotsebastianstan.tumblr.com/) for hosting it! as always, i'm on [tumblr](http://hawkguyz.tumblr.com/).
> 
> also thank you so much to everyone who has left kudos and comments and bookmarked the fics/series. happy holidays to you all! <3


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